How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You)
by lani-haluki
Summary: As summertime comes to an end, Owen Conners is faced with the discovery that he'll be getting a new neighbor. But he certainly never expects to fall for her.
1. The New Neighbor

**A/N- **

**hey so i decided to write ANOTHER story (i know you all are totally sick of me XD). This is based off of one of those "my crush lives next door to me" AUs and its Kowen so i hope you'll enjoy it! this probably wont be anything long, but i really love writing modern aus so we'll see :) (And don't worry I'll still be focusing mostly on Reality Check)**

* * *

It was mid-August when Owen's mother told him the news: that someone would be moving in next door to him. He'd been genuinely excited, hoping that it would be someone who loved books as much as he did. Someone who was his age, preferably. He kept his hopes up, but he knew it wasn't likely.

The chances of his new neighbor being his age — sixteen-years-old — were slim, but the probability of that person liking books? That would be even rarer. As he got older, Owen noticed that kids his age just didn't care about reading. It disappointed him, but that was okay!

Everyone had their hobbies, even if those hobbies only included playing sports and dating. Owen was the only person he knew who loved reading, aside from his best friend, Bethany. He didn't know how he'd get through school if it wasn't for her. Whether it was at the library or school, they were always hanging out. Bethany was Owen's greatest friend, and he was her's.

Up until seventh grade, he'd been sitting alone at lunch everyday. Back then, he'd had books to keep him company when he felt alone. Owen had gained a small circle of online friends, but obviously, they had never met him in person. If they had, they might've called him a nerd, and ignored him, just like the rest of his classmates.

That all changed on the day that he took a leap of faith, deciding to sit next to Bethany at lunch. She'd happened to be sitting alone, too. At first, she'd been extremely reluctant to be his friend. But, against all odds, they'd become fast friends. Owen was still unsure how someone like him could become best friends with someone like her, but it made sense, since they both loved books.

But Bethany wasn't the only friend he'd made.

Kiel, a boy who he'd met the following year, was the exact opposite of Owen. He was popular, funny, and probably the coolest person that Owen had ever met. Hands down. He even was in the magic club, which made him even cooler. Owen wasn't sure how they'd become such good friends, exactly, given how different they were. Kiel didn't even like reading, but that didn't matter to Owen.

Even still, the idea of making another friend was enough to lift his spirits. Between working at the library all summer, Owen hadn't had much of an opportunity to see his friends as much as he would've liked. Since Bethany lived closer, they hung out a couple times each week. He saw Kiel less often, since Kiel had been on vacation with his family for the past few weeks.

That would change when the school year started up again, but it didn't hurt to hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd make another friend. It would be nice, especially to have someone who lived a walking distance away.

Owen sat on the carpeted floor of his bedroom, a half-eaten ice cream sandwich in one hand as he scrolled through book theories on his phone. He kept looking over at the window, expecting to see the family's car pull up. They never did. His mom had sworn they'd be moving in this week, but at this point, Owen was almost positive that the whole new neighbor thing was a myth.

At this point, he'd be ecstatic if anyone showed up. He'd peppered his mother with questions, asking if she knew who the neighbors were, if they had any kids, how old they were, etc. But every time, she had replied that no, she didn't know. That left Owen in the dark, leaving his imagination to conjure up what his new neighbors would be like.

And then, he heard it. The sound of car engine humming, which grew louder with every passing second. At first, he'd assumed that it was only his imagination. It wasn't uncommon for his imagination to get out of hand, especially at nighttime. And even if there was a car out there, it wouldn't be the new neighbors! There was no way . . . was there?

Curiosity overtook his doubts. He set his ice cream sandwich on a plate and finally forced himself to stand up. His movements were slower than normal, as the summer heat caused him to feel slightly drowsy. He strode across the room to peer through the window, which had fogged up from all the humidity that had been happening lately. Even with the fogged-up window, he could make out the unmistakable shape of a car, which was slowly pulling into the driveway next to his.

His eyes widened. The driveway next to his. He rubbed the window, trying to get a better view. It was hard to see in the dark, but he knew that it was a car. There was no doubt about it. He felt excitement rush through him, and for a moment, he only stared. He watched as the car came to a stop, and two figures stepped out, carrying several bags as they walked to their house.

That was when Owen came back to his senses.

"Neighbors!" he shouted, throwing open his door and racing down the stairs, where his mother was reading a book on the couch. She was a librarian, so it came to no surprise that Owen found her reading in her free time. Not that he judged her for it, because he did the same thing at every chance he got, when he wasn't spending time with his friends.

He barreled down the stairs, leaving him barely enough time to catch his breath. "Mom . . . I saw . . . neighbors . . ."

His mother turned around to glare at him, but the look was far from angry. It was more out of annoyance, probably directed at Owen for interrupting her reading. Her expression shifted into confusion, and she crinkled her eyebrows. "Owen? What are you talking about?"

"Our neighbors!" Owen said, gesturing to the window for emphasis. When she continued to stare at him blankly, he added, "Our new neighbors. They're here. They're moving in right now."

She gasped. "They are?"

"Yeah! Come see!"

His mother slid a bookmark into the page, then set down her book down at what seemed like a snail's pace. Feeling too impatient and jittery to sit still, Owen drifted into the kitchen, where he stared out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the new neighbors. From what he could tell, the lights were on in the house, which meant that someone was clearly living there.

"Owen," his mother said, and he turned to see her walking into the kitchen. "Can you grab the flour?"

"The flour?" Owen repeated incredulously. "We can't bake right now. We have new neighbors! Shouldn't we say hi?"

She rolled her eyes, chuckling as she ruffled his hair. "This is for the neighbors, not us. And once we're done baking cookies, you're going to be your nice, friendly self and deliver them to their house."

Well, that wasn't comforting to hear.

"What?" Owen asked, hoping he'd misheard her. "I have to go alone? That's not fair! Why can't you deliver them?"

"Owen."

"Sorry." He sighed, glancing back at the window. "But still, why can't you do it?"

"It's better when children do it," his mother replied, as she opened the bridge and took a few sticks of butter out. She smiled warmly at him. "And who knows. Maybe you'll find someone else who loves books! You could point them in the direction of the library. I'm sure they'd love that, since they're moving to a new area."

"Yeah, yeah," Owen said absentmindedly, his excitement wearing off a bit. He felt more nervous now, as the idea of greeting the neighbors alone formed in his head.

Not that he was shy, but he did tend to get embarrassed easily. It was all the more embarrassing that he'd have to deliver the cookies by himself, to people who he'd never met before. Who'd come up with the idea of giving food to neighbors, anyway? If these neighbors happened to hate his mother's cookies, he would definitely be the one who was insulted for it.

After they got out the rest of the ingredients, they got to work, Owen mostly watching as his mother did the actual baking part. The most he'd contributed to was dumping half of the chocolate chips into the batter, which had probably been too much, since he didn't know if the neighbors actually liked chocolate chip cookies. But nearly everyone he knew liked them, so he hoped that they would, too.

Unlike his mother, he was never very skilled at baking. He and Kiel had tried making a cake together once for Bethany's fourteenth birthday, but that had failed miserably. After that, Owen just didn't trust anything he baked to turn out good. If his mother hadn't been there to help make the cookies, Owen doubted anything would've turned out right.

The next twenty minutes seemed to go by painfully slowly, and Owen leapt out of his chair as soon as the oven dinged. Remembering how easily Kiel had once burned himself when he'd forgotten to put oven mitts on, Owen pulled on oven mitts from where they'd been sitting on the counter. He wretched the oven door open, and the scent of cookies wafted into his nose.

Grinning, Owen placed both hands on either side of the tray and pulled it out, placing the cookies on the counter. His mouth began to water at the sight. He was tempted to reach out and grab a cookie, but his was almost certain that his mother would notice, so he didn't. "Mom! The cookies are done!"

"Okay!" A moment later, his mother came back into the kitchen. Her eyes landed on the cookies, and she smiled in approval. "They look great! Let's get these on a plate."

No less than five minutes later, Owen shuffled outside with a plate of freshly baked cookies in his hands. The sound of crickets chirping filled his ears, which had heightened considerably as night wore on. It was late, but the air was still sticky and hot, providing no relief whatsoever. Even though the heat was an obvious excuse, he could guess that the sweat on his body wasn't only from that.

Everything will be fine, he assured himself as he made his way towards his neighbors' house. All he had to do was deliver the cookies to the neighbors, and then that was it. The conversation would be less than a minute, and if it turned out embarrassing, Owen wouldn't have to talk to them ever again. How bad could it go?

He crossed the grass that separated his house from theirs before climbing up the porch steps. His heart thudded in his chest, at a faster pace than it had any right to be. What was he so nervous about? It would be fine! All he had to do was deliver the cookies, and that'd be it. That was all. He'd be okay.

Taking a deep breath, Owen hesitantly lifted his hand, hovering it in the air for a moment before he pressed on the doorbell. Even when standing outside, he could clearly hear the familiar chime of the doorbell, followed by muffled voices from inside the house. He quickly straightened up, feeling strangely stiff for some reason. He heard footsteps, and before he knew it, the door was swinging open.

He almost dropped the plate of cookies.

It felt like time had stopped, if only for an instant. Owen wasn't sure if he was still breathing. There was a certain feeling in the air, almost like magic. And there was a girl standing in front of him, who seemed to be about the same age and height as him. What caught his attention the most was her hair, which was dyed pink and fell just above her shoulders. He thought that she was one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen. Maybe the prettiest.

There was a surprised, wide-eyed look on her face, and the two of them stood there for a moment, simply gazing at each other. It occurred to him that he could stare at her forever, and he probably would've, if it weren't for the realization of what he was doing to hit him square in the face. One glance at the plate of cookies, and he suddenly remembered the reason that he was here.

"Oh!" Owen spoke up, rather dazedly. A blush formed on his cheeks, and his mind felt like it'd stopped working. His eyes were as wide as saucers. "Sorry. Hi, I'm Owen. Owen Conners. I live next door to you. You must be, um, the new . . ." She continued to stare at him, and he cut himself off entirely before he could make an even worse impression.

"Sorry, here." He shoved the plate of cookies in her hand, blushing hard. "What's your name?"

The girl glanced at the cookies in her hands, and he began to panic even more, wondering if he'd been too pushy. But then, she looked up at him with a light laugh. "I just said it."

"What?" His jaw dropped. "You did?"

"Yeah." She grinned. "It's fine, though. I always need people to repeat their names. I'm Kara Dox."

_Kara Dox_. It fit her perfectly. From her pink hair and quirky attitude, it just seemed like _her_. Owen found himself grinning back, almost uncontrollably. It felt weird to smile this much, especially when it was directed at someone he'd just met. But he didn't really care. Somehow, she hadn't run away from him by now. That could be a good sign!

"Cool," Owen said, his voice coming out quieter than he meant it to.

"Thanks for the cookies. I really wasn't expecting—"

Suddenly, a woman's voice shouted from inside. "Kara! Who are you talking to?"

Kara's smile faded, and she quickly turned back to the inside of her house. "Don't worry, it's no one!" She looked back at him, and this time, her smile was apologetic. "Sorry, I gotta go. But it was incredible to meet you, Owen." She grinned again. "I'm totally eating all of these cookies tonight. No doubt about it."

"Oh. U-Uh, that's good to know," Owen said, hoping she wouldn't notice how much he was blushing. "Well, I hope you enjoy them! We weren't sure if you liked chocolate chip cookies."

"Yeah, I do. Who doesn't like them?"

"People with bad taste?"

She giggled. The sound sent shivers down his spine, and for some reason all he wanted to do was say something else to make her laugh like that again. "Very true. We're the smart ones." Still holding the cookies in her arms, she backed away from the doorway. "Uh, I should go. I need to help my aunt with unpacking. I never thought moving to a new house would be so hard!"

"Right." He nodded, although he didn't have any experience with moving himself. "Um, if you need any help adjusting, I'm right next door. I'll usually be working at the library during the day, though, so you could probably find me there."

She tilted her head. "You work at the library?"

Mentally, Owen kicked himself. Why had he mentioned that? Kids his age usually didn't work at libraries, especially boys. Owen loved working there, but whenever he told other kids, they just gave him weird looks. He wouldn't be surprised if Kara did, too.

"Yeah," he said sheepishly, his eyes drifting towards his feet. "My mom is the librarian there."

"Oh, so you like reading?"

There was no point in hiding it. Reading was Owen's life. He couldn't lie, not about something like this. He nodded, glancing up at her. "Is that a bad thing?"

Kara's eyes widened, and she shook her head vigorously. "No, no! It's not a bad thing at all. Don't get me wrong, I like to read too." He smiled at that. "I just think it's really cool that you have a library near you. My old house didn't have a local library, so the only time I got to read books was at my school's library. And not all of my schools even had a wide selection of them."

Owen almost had to pinch himself to prove he wasn't dreaming. She actually thought that it was cool that he worked at a library. That never happened. He'd never heard anyone say that libraries were "cool". Well, aside from Bethany. He didn't know of many people who liked being in libraries in their free time.

Another thing about what she'd said stuck out to him, and he paused. "Not all of your schools?" he repeated slowly.

She blushed at that. "Yeah. My family moves around a lot, so I've gone to plenty of schools for way too short of a time. Not only that, but I've been . . . kicked out of a few."

"Oh, okay." His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hadn't been expecting that . . . at all. He would never have guessed that someone like Kara would've been kicked out of school before. And several schools? How had that happened? Although he wanted to, Owen chose not to ask. He'd just met Kara, and he didn't want to accidentally insult her.

"Do you know how long you're staying here?" he asked, choosing to switch directions.

Kara shrugged. "No idea. But I hope it'll be more permanent. I'm kinda sick of moving." She chuckled a little, and Owen felt a fluttery sensation in his stomach.

"I can't even imagine," Owen said, shaking his head. "I've always lived in one place for . . . pretty much my entire life."

"You're so lucky."

He laughed, feeling his face heating up once again. "No!"

"You are!"

"I'm lucky that I don't get to travel?"

"Kara!" the woman's voice shouted again, and Owen felt a jolt of concern as the smile on Kara's face melted away. "What did I say? Who are you talking to?"

"It's no one!" Kara shouted back. She glanced back at him. "Sorry, I gotta go. My aunt's already flipping out. I totally lost track of time. It was really nice to meet you, though."

Owen could only nod as he backed away from the door. "You too!"

She gave him a genuine smile, then, and Owen caught one last glimpse of her before she closed the door behind her. For a moment, Owen stood there, half-believing that his encounter with Kara had only been a dream. He'd been completely worried about what would happen when he talked to the neighbors, but it seemed that everything had worked out. More than he could've imagined it to.

There were butterflies in his stomach that definitely hadn't been there a few minutes ago. He didn't know what to expect with the whole having-a-new-neighbor thing, but there was a nervous excitement in his veins, and he knew that things were going to be okay. Turning around on his heels, Owen walked back down the stairs, almost in a trance. The sound of crickets was louder, now, and it echoed across their quiet neighborhood like a peaceful melody.

He smiled the whole way home.


	2. The Unlucky Club

_"__Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." _

_— Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights_

* * *

Kara Dox was not a fan of moving.

Ever since practically middle school, she'd moved everywhere. From various towns, to various houses, to various schools. There was always a new name to learn and a face to get used to, but by the time she'd adjusted, she and her family were already moving to their next house. It didn't exactly give her enough time to form any lifelong relationships, and it didn't help that the people she spent the most time with was her aunt and cousin, Dolores.

Moving to their new house a few days ago had been the same routine as always, involving lots of unpacking. It'd taken ages to get things organized, and they still weren't finished. She'd managed to at least unpack the boxes for her own room, but the rest of her house? That could take up to _months_.

It always did, and by the time everything had settled, Kara's life changed again. This time, she'd hoped they'd stay longer than just a few months. The longest they'd stayed in a place before had been three years, in a house close to Mount Rushmore. That had been when Kara was younger, but it had been one of her favorite places to live. First, because the site was really cool. And secondly, she was _obsessed_ with history.

When her aunt didn't used to be such a hag, they used to take trips to Mount Rushmore. Just Kara, her aunt, and Dolores. They'd sit in front of the statue, sometimes making fun of it, and sometimes envisioning what it would look like if their faces were carved into the rocks instead of the Founding Fathers. Because of how often they'd gone there, Kara knew practically everything about that place.

Kara had been sitting in her room, nearly bored out of her mind. It was mid-morning and bright sunlight was peaking through the curtains of the windows, daring her to come outside. And she was tempted, because the past few days had been so busy and she'd barely had the chance to go explore the area around her. She knew that she wasn't able to, though. Not _this_ soon.

Her aunt was someone who rarely let Kara do anything without her permission, and often treated her with coldness. So, Kara had developed a habit of calling her "The Countess". Not to her face, obviously. Only behind her back. What she _actually_ called her was Aunt C.

What the C was short for, she wasn't quite sure. But she guessed it was one of the reasons she'd come up with the _brilliant_ nickname of the Countess. The other reason? Her aunt was a tyrant. Another word Kara would never say to her face, or else she might get kicked out of the house. And the Countess had threatened to do so before, so Kara knew not to push her buttons too much.

Not that that discouraged Kara. Over the years, she'd become used to her aunt's rude and insulting manner, even if it stung. She just had to do her best to carve her own path, no matter how little freedom she might have over her own life. As long as she got out of the house as much as possible, that was good for her.

Though, that wasn't always possible. Over the years, the Countess had trusted Kara less and less, becoming more controlling over her. It wasn't Kara's fault that they didn't have a good relationship. Not _entirely_. Apparently the only place her aunt trusted Kara to go now was school, since there were teachers to supervise her. It'd only been like that for the past year, but before the incident, she'd had much more freedom.

The thing was, Kara had been taken in by her aunt when she was only a few years old. According to her aunt, her parents had passed away in a car crash. Even though she'd never met them, Kara knew she would've had a much better life if she'd lived with her parents. She liked to imagine that if she was with them, they'd stay in one place forever, instead of traveling every few months or years.

Ever since she'd ended up with the Countess, trouble seemed to follow her. First she got into detention, and then she started getting kicked out of schools. It wasn't Kara's intention to start trouble, really, she tried her best to be well-mannered when she was in school. But it became harder each year, and they'd started moving to different locations, to new houses and new schools and new neighborhoods.

Life became a whirlwind.

Kara guessed it made sense that her aunt had become so distrusting of her. Each time Kara got kicked out of a school, the reaction from the Countess became less shocked and more . . . disgusted. As if Kara were able to stop it from happening. And maybe it had just become the Countess's nature, but each time, Kara felt more and more disappointed with herself.

It was rare when she _wasn't_ disappointed in herself. By now, she was used to it. She'd had that feeling the whole time they'd removed belongings from their old house, during the seemingly endless four-hour-drive up to their new neighborhood, and even while they'd begun unpacking in their new house.

That feeling had stuck to Kara like a shadow as she'd started to carry some boxes upstairs, ready to start decorating her new room. And then, the doorbell rang. It was the best noise Kara had ever heard. She'd dropped her boxes, racing back down the stairs to open the door.

And just like that, the feeling had vanished. Because standing on the other end of the door, looking a little embarrassed and maybe a little too sunburnt, was a boy. A boy with an awkward smile and hands curled around a plate of wonderfully-smelling chocolate chip cookies. It was the best thing that had happened to Kara all day. Like heaven had been delivered to her on a plate.

In the five minutes she'd spoken to him, she learned that his name was Owen, he _really_ liked chocolate chip cookies, and he worked at a library. Kara hadn't realized it until she'd gone back inside, but she'd hardly been able to stop smiling since her conversation with him. He was the first person in a long time who'd been _nice_ to her. _Actually_ nice, not the fake nice that meant a person secretly didn't like you at all.

And Kara, who hadn't had a friend in a very long time, was suddenly uplifted. Owen lived next door to her, and maybe even went to her school. He even worked at a library, which was really cool. Kara had never met anyone who worked at a library before. Was it unusual? Maybe a little. But being a little unusual herself (okay, a _lot_ unusual), she hoped this meant she was on the way to having a new friend.

Just the fact that he hadn't run away screaming, or given her a look of discomfort, was enough to give Kara some hope. Maybe this time, things would be different. Maybe she'd actually become friends with this boy, and she wouldn't feel so alone anymore.

But Kara reminded herself that this time was different. Because although she'd made a few friends in the past, she'd never told them the whole story. And the feeling she got around Owen — it made her afraid, because she _wanted_ to be good friends with him. _Actual_ friends. Which meant telling him things that only she knew, things only her family knew.

She'd never wanted to tell anyone before, but talking to Owen had surprised her. Something about him made her want to open up to him. It'd been so long since she'd been able to do that, since she'd lost every friend she'd ever had. The only problem was, she knew how this would go down. Once he knew the truth, he'd never even _consider_ hanging out with her again.

Because _she'd_ been the reason they'd had to move. Maybe not all the times before, but this time? This was _definitely_ on her. So, the Countess could yell at her all she wanted. She could glare at Kara all she wanted, and if she chose to not let Kara go somewhere, Kara understood. Because every time Kara looked over, seeing Dolores's picture frame on her aunt's nightstand, she felt a familiar wave of guilt wash over her.

She was the reason that Dolores hadn't come with them this time, and the reason why the Countess was extra harsh. And unless Kara could travel back in time and change things — like she'd always wanted to — then she'd have to live with her mistake forever.

* * *

The last week of summer went by in a blur, faster than Kara could keep up with. During that time, she didn't do much other than help unpack the house, do whatever chores she was told to do, and slip out of the house when the Countess wasn't home. Her favorite times of the day became when she rode her bike around the neighborhood, sometimes even running into her new neighbor, Owen, on her way back.

She always waved enthusiastically at him, a big grin on her face, and Owen responded with a bright smile of his own, a hint of red on his cheeks. From time to time, she'd seen him outside, sometimes alone and sometimes with a redheaded girl. He hadn't gone over Kara's house again, and Kara hadn't gone to his. She wasn't sure why. Maybe because of how busy things were, or because of Kara's own uncertainties.

And although she wanted to be his friend, she thought it might be a bit rude if she just knocked on his door and asked to hang out. Would that be too forward? Probably. Now that she was starting school, the most she could hope for was that she'd bump into him there. In school, the Countess couldn't watch over her like a hawk. And Kara could finally make a new friend . . . if she didn't ruin things.

Up until the last few months, Kara used to have a lot more freedom than she did now. Until the incident. Everything turned upside-down after that. That was partly why she wasn't being given much freedom yet, and more the reason that she was excited for school. Well, maybe not excited as much as _relieved_.

The one good thing about moving from several schools in the past few years was that she got to have a fresh start. And then another, and another. At least at this school, no one would know her name. They wouldn't know what had happened, or what she'd done. Until an even bigger mess happened, and she'd have to pick up the pieces.

But it wasn't too much to have some hope. Despite having bad experiences with every school she'd been to, Kara felt more optimistic about this one. Meeting Owen, especially, had made her feel better about being in a new place. All she had to do was go to school, try not to get into trouble, and make some friends. She'd tried that four times, so far.

How hard could a fifth school be?

Five minutes after the bus was supposed to arrive at their neighborhood's bus stop, Kara was sprinting out the door. Her feet flew across the sidewalk, her heavy backpack slapping against her back hard in her efforts to get there faster. _Come on, Kara! _She turned the corner onto another street, the unraveling laces of her shoes making it harder to run. And then, she skidded to a stop.

The bus was _right there _in front of her. But it was already rolling away.

Kara's eyes widened. She immediately started running again, this time stepping into the street. She ran after the bus, waving her arms. "Hey, wait! Wait! I'm here!"

The bus only continued to move. Kara didn't stop running. The bus was close enough that she could _just_ reach it, if only the bus driver would notice her. Seriously, had no one noticed she was trying to catch up? She watched, her feet slowing, as the bus turned the corner and went onto the road. It zoomed away, leaving a cloud of smoke behind.

Kara groaned, stopping and putting her hands on her knees. "Really? You couldn't have waited?"

Well, that was that. Time to find _another_ way to get to school.

Next time she was late to the bus stop, she'd better tie her shoes. She'd learned that the hard why. Feeling angry at herself, Kara put her hands on her hips, thinking. Although she was sixteen, she was still too young to drive in the Countess's eyes. If anything, Kara didn't think she'd get to drive until she was in _college_.

Suddenly, an idea came to her. She could just bike to school! She wasn't sure what direction the school was in, and she'd never actually biked to school before. If she was lucky, it'd be close, and she wouldn't be late for her first day. But Kara and luckiness didn't go together; she was probably the unluckiest person she knew. Still, if she pedaled really fast, maybe she'd make it in time?

Almost an hour later, Kara made it to the front of the school to find only one bus parked in front. Kids were jumping off of it, rushing inside at a pace that definitely meant they were late. The sight might Kara feel a bit less panicked. At least she wasn't the only one who'd shown up twenty minutes late.

As she haphazardly tossed her bike onto the bike rack and ran to the front doors, Kara glanced at the bus behind her, which was still sitting there. _Number 23. _She repeated it again and again in her head, smiling to herself. If anyone asked, she'd say that that was bus. Blaming her lateness on the bus driver wouldn't get _her_ in trouble.

And although she felt kind of bad about lying, she also didn't want to get into any real trouble on the first day. Kara had done that at, well, almost every school she'd ever gone to. The teachers always had bad first impressions of Kara, but this time, Kara was determined to make a _good_ first impression. Especially if there was a chance that Owen was in any of her classes, if he went to this school at all.

Before she went inside, Kara paused to smooth a wisp of short hair behind her ear. _Don't screw this up, Kara,_ she thought to herself. She was going to make friends, and for once, she was going to try her hardest not to get into detention, or worse, expelled. Today was a fresh start, one of many.

And it going to be the best day of her life.

"This is the _worst_ day of my life!" Owen grumbled, his irritation at its max. He and Kiel were sitting on the floor of the boy's bathroom, Owen trying desperately to scrub the water off of his notebooks while Kiel sat there unhelpfully, giving him poor advice.

"Owen," Kiel said, poorly-disguised amusement in his voice. "Scrubbing your notebooks with a paper towel isn't going to do anything. Why don't we ask if someone has a hairdryer?"

Owen made a face. "Who would bring a hairdryer to school?"

"Well, this boy I know always brings hairspray to school."

Owen went back to scrubbing, cringing as the pages crinkled beneath his hand. "That's not the same thing."

"It's not?" Kiel frowned. "Oh, you're right. Never-mind." He stood up. "Hey, we should go."

"What are you doing?" Owen demanded. "You said you wouldn't leave until we got the water off of it!"

"But we're missing math class!"

"Exactly! I'd rather be here than there!"

"Good point," Kiel said, nodding. "But we've been gone for like, ten minutes. Seriously, we can worry about your notebooks later. Don't sweat on it! Just leave them in your locker, and we can find a way to dry them later. I have a class with Beth after this. I'll see if she has a hairdryer."

Owen laughed. "She does _not_ have a hairdryer."

"How would you know?"

"Because of all people, Bethany would never bring something like that to school."

He looked down at his notebooks again, sighing. He'd gotten two for math class, the first one for taking notes during class, and the second one for backup, just in case the first one got ruined. Knowing Owen's relationship with math, it wouldn't be surprising. But apparently _both_ were ruined, so unless the pages magically revived themselves, he couldn't use either.

The only thing he'd gotten to write on it was his name.

It was only the first day back, and he was already messing things up. _Way to go, Owen. _He couldn't believe he'd only been at school for thirty minutes, and things were already going badly. Usually, Owen never messed up while in class. It was boring, that was for sure, but he always concentrated and quietly took notes.

But having Kiel in his class changed things. Owen had never had a class with Kiel before, but he'd been instantly excited when he discovered they had one together. That excitement, however, digressed into slight annoyance, once Kiel chose that exact moment to start telling Owen all about the vacation he'd been on for the past few weeks.

Clearly irritated by the disruption, the teacher had yelled at them to focus. Or more specifically, at Kiel. Owen, startled at the teacher's voice, accidentally bumped his elbow into Kiel's water bottle, which inconveniently sat right next to Owen's freshly-bought notebooks. The next thing he knew, the bottle was falling over, as if in slow motion. Water splattered all over his desk, soaking his notebooks, pencils, everything.

Owen had stared, his mouth dropped open in horror. The first thing Kiel had done was laugh. Then, looking apologetic, he'd led Owen out the door, promising to help him dry off his notebooks. But judging by the way the water soaked right through the pages, Owen wasn't sure if fixing it was an option.

He followed Kiel out into the hallway, his soaked notebooks clutched tightly in his hands. Before heading back into class, he dropped the books off at his locker, hoping that by tomorrow, he'd still be able to take notes on them. Owen couldn't help feeling disappointed, though. Math had always been his most hated subject. If he didn't take notes during class, he'd miss everything!

"It'll be fine!" Kiel said, as if reading Owen's thoughts. "I'll take notes so you don't miss anything."

Owen furrowed his brow. "_You'll_ take notes? I thought you didn't like taking notes."

Kiel winked. "Just because I don't like taking notes doesn't mean I don't do it." In a quieter voice, he added, "Also, I started doing it once Bethany forced me to last year. Now, I can't stop." He sighed. "I really wish magic existed. _Real_ magic, you know?" He grinned. "I could take notes without even lifting a finger."

"That sounds great!" Owen said wistfully. "Maybe you'll invent magic someday."

"Hey, I _am_ magic. I don't need to invent anything to prove it."

Owen smiled. Magic being real was something he'd dreamed about his whole life. All he'd ever wanted to do was pick up a wand and say a spell. And if he was being honest, he still would give anything to do that. _Anything_. Chores, homework, even his cat, Spike, if it came to that!

The boys footsteps echoed down the quiet hallway as they walked back to the classroom, opening the door and stepping inside. Except when Owen's eyes landed on his desk, he did a double take. He stopped thinking about magic wands and casting spells, because in front of him was a different kind of magic.

His heart flipped, and he suddenly found that he couldn't look at anything else. The person sitting in the other desk next to him, which had been empty ten minutes ago, was none other than _Kara_. Her face looked a bit pink, her back slouched and a tiny frown on her lips. But as soon as Owen walked through the door, she looked up. He froze. It was _her_.

Kara, his new neighbor with her warm smile and bright clothes and loud voice. Compared to the other kids in the classroom, she looked startlingly out of place. Maybe because of her pink hair, which was so _different_ and unusual and cool. Owen had never seen another person his age with hair that color, and wasn't sure if kids were even _allowed_ to have dyed hair at their school.

For a while, Owen had started to wonder if she was just in his imagination. He'd only had a real conversation with her once, which had just been a few weeks ago. The other times he'd seen her, she'd been passing him on his way to the library. That was it. Owen had been a bit disappointed that he didn't see her as often as he thought he would, which was another reason why he thought he might've imagined her.

After meeting this totally nice, funny girl, who'd actually laughed at Owen's jokes and hadn't seemed grossed out by him, who wouldn't think she'd been in his head? Bethany had, until Owen had insisted that she was real. Still, the fact that Bethany had doubted it made _him_ start to doubt it. Who was to say Kara was a real person? What if she'd just been a part of his imagination?

But seeing her here, sitting there in the classroom, confirmed it. Kara was _here_. She was real, and nothing about her was made up. It made Owen all the happier, and all the more embarrassed, as he slowly walked over to his desk, which was still covered in water.

As he sat down, Kara looked at him with a grin. "I can't believe we go to the same school!" she whispered, surprise in her voice.

"I know!" Owen exclaimed quietly, trying to keep his voice as low as possible so the teacher wouldn't yell at him again. "U-Um, why did you get here so late?"

Kara grimaced. "I was _really_ late for the bus, so I had to bike to school." She nudged his shoulder, a half-smile on her face. At the contact, a flurry of butterflies erupted in his stomach. "What happened to your desk?"

"What did I say about talking?" the teacher snapped, turning for a moment to look back at the students. Owen immediately shrunk back in his seat, avoiding the teacher's eye contact. A second later, the teacher returned to the board, writing an equation down.

Kara nudged Owen again, pointing to her notebook. He nodded, smiling once he realized what she meant. Taking his pencil, he pressed it down on the notebook, wishing his hand wasn't shaking so much. Not only that, his heart was pounding _way_ too fast. Somehow, though, he managed to get the message written down, passing it back over to her so she could read it.

He watched as Kara's eyebrows shot up, a smile appearing on her face. Then, glancing at him for a second, she turned back to the notebook and wrote something else. She slid it over to him, and Owen grinned once he saw what she'd scribbled.

_Maybe we'll call ourselves 'the unlucky club'?_

Owen bit his lip to keep from smiling too hard. He was _definitely_ smiling too much, and he didn't want to come off as creepy or awkward or weird. He _had_ to be weirding her out. Still, he couldn't help himself from quickly writing down the next words, though a part of him felt embarrassed afterwards. Then, after sliding the notebook towards her again, he turned back to the board, missing the bright smile that crossed Kara's face.

_I really like that idea._


	3. The Spider Incident

_"You were a chapter in my book, and I was merely a line in yours."_

— p.b.p

* * *

Lunch period was a different experience for everyone. For some, it meant getting to sit with friends, catching up on anything and everything. For others, it meant sitting at a table alone, looking at a phone or reading a book to pass the time. And while it did passed the forty minutes they were cooped up in the lunch room, those in that situation weren't the happiest of people.

Back when he wasn't friends with Bethany and Kiel, Owen sat alone. Not because he didn't _have_ friends — he had online friends — but simply because all the other kids were busy sitting somewhere else. Owen was nice to everyone, but none of his classmates would sit with him. Probably because he only talked about books, and fictional characters, and _theories_ about books.

That time had been lonely, but he'd gotten used to it. Owen was okay with it. He had his mom, he talked to people all day at the library, and had the occasional conversation with kids from school. Usually it was about homework. And _more_ usually, it was about his strong dislike for anything math related.

But he didn't realize what he'd been missing until he met Bethany and Kiel, until he _finally_ had people who'd sit with him at lunch. Kiel, Owen knew, had never sat alone in his life. He'd never had a problem making friends and becoming popular, because everyone loved him. Bethany, like Owen, had sat alone for much of her life. And her situation had been even worse — she'd never even _had_ friends until Owen.

He was glad that he had friends to sit with, now. For years, lunch period had never been something Owen looked forward to. There were so many tables and the cafeteria was always incredibly loud, not to mention how intimidating being there felt sometimes. He'd always dig into his latest book, drowning out the noise of students' chattering. While he still often read during lunch, at least he could do it beside Bethany and Kiel.

Pushing open the cafeteria door, Owen stumbled after the crowd of students, all of which were heading to different destinations. Some to tables, which were usually assigned, and some to the lunch line. Instead of bringing a bagged lunch from home, Owen always got food from the cafeteria. There were more options, and he wasn't sure if his mom was very good at making anything besides a sandwich.

Pausing at his usual table — which was empty for now — Owen dropped his backpack on a seat before rushing to join the lunch line. Luckily, the line wasn't too long today. That was one reason Owen liked rushing to the cafeteria; he'd rather get here earlier than wait in a twenty minute line. He'd been there before, and it'd never been fun. Especially when he couldn't exactly hold up a tray with one hand and a read a book with the other.

Five minutes later, Owen was walking back to his table, carrying a tray of food in both hands. The cafeteria food was never _that_ good, and sometimes wasn't very edible, but Owen really didn't mind. On days like today, mac 'n' cheese was on the menu. Who would he be if he turned that down?

"Hey." Bethany greeted him as he slid into the seat across from her. She was pulling a sandwich out of her lunch bag.

"Hi!" Owen said, smiling at her. He plopped his tray of food down. "Uh, where's Kiel?"

"He just got into the lunch line."

They looked over to see their friend standing among the line of students, looking distracted. He glanced over at them, giving them a wink from across the room. Owen waved in response. He and Bethany turned back to each other.

"Yeah, he's gonna be there a while," Bethany said, an amused smile on her face.

"I was only there for like, five minutes," Owen said. "_And_ I got mac 'n' cheese, so it's a great deal."

Her eyebrows rose. "That _is_ pretty great." Then her eyes landed on something behind him, and she leaned forward. "Hey, is that the new girl Kiel was telling me about?"

"What?" Owen whipped around so fast that his neck jerked a little. But the uncomfortable sensation was forgotten, as his eyes landed on exactly who he'd anticipated: Kara. She was sitting alone, busy taking out a container from her backpack. She didn't have a lunch bag, Owen noticed.

He watched as she pulled the lid off the container, reached her hands inside, and pulled out what looked like a pancake. A _pancake_. At lunch! Owen found himself smiling at he looked at her. He loved eating breakfast, but it was a little weird that she'd packed only that for lunch. Even stranger, instead of eating the pancake with a fork, she rolled it up and began eating it.

"Is she eating a pancake for lunch?" Bethany questioned.

Owen turned back around, shrugging. "I guess."

She took a bite of her sandwich, looking thoughtful. "Wait, isn't that your new neighbor?"

"What? Oh! Y-Yeah. Yeah, that's her."

"_Really_? So she's real?"

Owen stared at her. "Of _course_ she's real! And how did you know it was her?"

"Well, I kind of assumed 'cause of the pink hair. Also, Kiel told me about her. He said you were talking to this girl during math class. And when he said her name was _Kara_ . . ." She grinned. "I knew you weren't lying when you told me about her!"

"Is it that hard to believe I _didn't_ make her up?"

Bethany rolled her eyes. "Yes! You said she's your neighbor. I've been at your house a dozen times since you got this—" She did air quotes. "_Neighbor_. And I've never seen her!"

"That's because—" Owen cut himself off, not sure what his point actually was. He hadn't seen much of Kara either since she'd moved in a few weeks ago. He'd expected to see her a lot more, since he literally lived _right_ next door to her. But to his disappointment, that hadn't happened. He'd seen her maybe three or four times while they'd both been outside, but that was it.

"She's real," Owen said firmly. "_That's_ what matters."

"I know that _now_." She chuckled. "So, are you guys friends?"

"Sort of? I-I don't really know her."

"Then what were you talking about during the whole class?"

Owen felt his face heating up. "Kiel was exaggerating! We talked for a minute, and then the teacher yelled at us."

"And then . . . you wrote notes to each other?"

"You don't know that."

She snorted. "Whatever. But you know what I think?"

Owen looked down, trying to hide his red face while he took a bite of his food. "Please don't tell me."

"I think you like her."

His eyes bulged out of his head. "No, I-I don't! I _don't_!"

"Oh, come on. It's _so_ obvious that you do."

"But I don't even know her! How could I like her?"

"Really? You're asking me that?" She deadpanned. "Remember when you had a crush on Charm? You liked her right away, Owen. And you didn't know her that well, either."

"I really shouldn't tell you everything," he muttered, digging his fork into his mac 'n' cheese.

She did a little shrug. "We don't have a choice. We're stuck with each other."

Taking another bite of food, Owen glanced over his shoulder. He felt a pang of sympathy once he saw that Kara was still by herself, although she didn't seem to mind. She seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her rolled-up pancake, more than he'd ever seen _anyone_ enjoy breakfast food. Was that normal? Probably not, though Owen liked breakfast a lot, too.

Maybe he should talk to her. He could invite her to their table, and he could actually make an effort to become her friend that way. But what if she said no? What if she thought he was weird, and she was only talking to him because he was her neighbor? She'd make other friends, and she'd never even _glance_ Owen's way again. All the more reason to become friends with her now.

But Owen wasn't sure how to do that. He didn't know how to just go up and _talk_ to her. Unless it was a conversation about books. Then, it was _always_ simple. Kara had told him she liked to read, but maybe she'd just been saying that to make Owen feel better. If she had a book out, like Owen did when he sat alone, he could talk to her about that.

But if he talked to her now, what would it be about? _Breakfast_ food?

No, that might be a bad conversation starter! He tended to be awkward around everyone, but even more so around his crushes. Was that what this feeling was? A crush? Owen knew that he liked her, but was it possible to like someone without really knowing them? He didn't know very much about her, but he _wanted_ to know more.

"You should talk to her," Bethany said. "Maybe ask her to sit with us."

Owen made a face. "I can't just _talk_ to her."

"You did in math class!"

"That was because . . . we were talking about how she was late to school, and how I got water all over my textbooks. Both academic things!"

"Come on." Bethany abruptly stood from the table, picking up her lunch. Owen's mouth dropped open as he watched her walk over to Kara's table. Quickly, he scrambled to his feet, almost tripping as he moved to pick up his tray. He hurried to catch up with his red-headed best friend, just as she reached Kara's table.

"Can we sit here?" Bethany asked.

Kara looked up, her eyes widening. She stared at Bethany. Then, her gaze flickered to Owen, and she smiled in recognition. "Of course! Yeah."

As Bethany sat down in the seat next to Kara, Owen hovered there, trying to figure out where to sit. He stood there for a few seconds, long enough for it to seem awkward. Should he sit next to Kara, or was that too close? Wherever he sat, he knew the butterflies in his stomach would never calm down. Though a part of him really wanted to sit next to Kara, Owen sat two seats away from her, too nervous to take that risk.

"Hi, Owen," Kara said, a smile dancing across her face.

"Hi," Owen replied, his voice cracking and his cheeks warming. He smiled back, unable to fully look her in the eyes. He stared back for a few seconds before looking down at his food, which, unlike Kara, didn't cause him to blush.

She grinned teasingly. "How's your day been after math class? Did you get water all over your other desks?"

He laughed. "Ha-ha. _No_. That usually never happens."

Bethany nudged Kara. "Unless he's around Kiel's water bottle, he means."

"Hey! That's not fair, my notebooks got destroyed because of him!"

"I might have some extra notebooks at my house, if you wanna borrow some," Kara offered.

"Oh. No, that's okay. I-I'm going to see how my notebooks are at the end of the day."

"I'm betting they'll still be wet," Bethany told him.

"We'll see about that." He looked at Kara. "But thanks . . . if I need extra notebooks I might borrow yours — if that's okay."

"Sure," Kara said. "But I should warn you, they have dinosaurs all over them."

Owen grinned. "That's okay. I think dinosaurs are cool."

"That's a relief. Anyone who doesn't like dinosaurs is missing out." With a smile, she turned to Bethany. "Oh, sorry for not introducing myself. That was rude of me. My name's Kara."

Bethany nodded as she smiled back. "I'm Bethany. Nice to officially meet you."

"Officially?"

"Owen, um . . . he . . ." Bethany glanced at Owen, who was shaking his head profusely. "He mentioned that he had a new neighbor. That's all."

Owen let out a small sigh of relief. At least Bethany hadn't mentioned how _much_ he'd talked about Kara. He must've had almost ten conversations about her by now. A few with Bethany, some with Kiel, and even one with his mom. Wow . . . maybe he _did_ like Kara. Oh boy.

"So, um—" Owen met Kara's eyes. "Breakfast food, huh?"

Kara grinned at him, making his stomach feel fluttery. "Yep. It's the most important meal of the day, I hear."

"Do you normally have breakfast during lunchtime?" Bethany asked.

"Oh, not usually." Kara laughed. "I eat it before I go to school, but I also love eating it at any time of the day. So today I've had it twice. Cereal this morning, pancakes now. They're my comfort food."

"I eat breakfast, too," Owen said, giving her a small grin. "I-I mean, I eat it during normal breakfast time but I've never had it twice a day. I like it — having breakfast. Like you said, it's really important."

Kara held her pancake out, her fingers covered in syrup. "Did you want any?"

Owen quickly shook his head. "I'm okay. I-I have mac 'n' cheese." He glanced down at his food, wondering if he should offer her some. "Uh, did you want . . ."

"No, that's okay!" She smiled. "I'm good with just my pancake. Thanks."

He nodded. He wasn't sure what else to say, so he shoved a forkful of mac 'n' cheese into his mouth, hoping they wouldn't just be talking about breakfast food the whole time.

"I sort of wish there was a breakfast cooking class at this school," Kara said wistfully. "I make some _mean_ pancakes."

_Never-mind._

"I've never made pancakes," Bethany spoke up. "Just, uh . . . omelettes. With my dad. That's the only breakfast food I know how to make."

"Omelettes are also very important," Kara said, looking so serious that Owen nearly laughed. Her eyes fell on Owen again, and he held it back. "Have you made breakfast food before?"

"Um, no. Not really," Owen said. "My mom usually just makes me stuff. Or she forces me to eat in the morning, even though I'm not hungry." He grinned goofily. "It's kinda annoying, sometimes!"

"Yeah. I bet."

Kara swallowed, her expression changing for some reason. Was that disappointment on her face? Or a hint of nervousness? Whatever it was, it caused her smile to fade. Already, Owen found himself searching for a way to bring her smile back. He watched as she went back to eating her food, suddenly quiet. This went on for a few minutes, of them simply eating in silence.

Owen frowned, sharing a confused look with Bethany. Had he said something wrong? He didn't think he had. Or maybe he hadn't, and Kara had just thought of something that didn't make her feel good. That would make sense. It was her first day of school, after all. Adjusting to it could be scary and stressful. It even was for Owen, sometimes, even though he'd been attending the same school all his life.

At that moment, Kiel approached their table and slid into the seat next to Bethany. "New seating arrangements, I see! You could've told me that when I went to get food, Beth! I thought you'd left me to fend for myself _alone_—"

Bethany rolled her eyes, but Owen could see she was fighting back a smile. "You are way too annoying for your own good."

"Don't you mean I'm too _handsome_ for my own good?"

"You wish."

"Psh!" Kiel pretended to look offended. Then he pushed his chair further towards the table, giving Kara a broad grin. "I'm Kiel."

Kara smiled brightly back. "I'm Kara."

"I know."

"Wait, did Owen tell you about me, too?" Her tone was teasing, Owen noticed, but he still felt his face heating up nonetheless. Kiel glanced at him, hopefully seeing the panicked look on his face. A second later, he looked back at Kara.

Without missing a beat, Kiel said, "No, I just know everyone's names in all my classes. It's kind of my thing. Being this popular has it perks." He gave Owen a wink. Owen's shoulders sagged, feeling relieved.

"Oh, okay!" Kara said, a smile on her face. Her eyes found Owen's. "So, how long have you guys known each other?"

"A while," Owen said, while Bethany replied, "A few years."

"We met in middle school," he added, noticing just then how much his fingers were tapping against his tray. He quickly hid his hands in his lap, trying not to seem as nervous as he probably was.

"Wow, that's a really long time. That's great. I don't know if I've ever had friends that lasted that long." Kara smiled, though Owen felt bad. It must've been because of how often she moved. But she had to have some friends left from her previous schools, right? He couldn't imagine someone _not_ wanting to stay friends with her.

She finished her pancakes and wiped her syrupy fingers. The four of them spent the rest of the lunch period talking. And every time Owen asked Kara a question — like _what's your favorite subject in school? _and _are you reading any books?_ — he saw Bethany and Kiel flashing him small, knowing smiles. Kara never seemed to notice, but Owen did. He noticed all of it.

And each time, he shrunk further into his seat. His face hadn't stopped burning since he sat down.

* * *

History class was Kara's favorite thing in the world. She might not always enjoy school, but any version of history class was exciting. She loved learning about all of the events that had led up until now. Even the bad ones. They gave lessons, things you weren't supposed to repeat.

But again and again, history always repeated itself. In the general sense, it was true. It wasn't easy for people to learn from history, because they made mistakes before they even knew they were doing it. Apparently, the term was also true for Kara. From school to school, history always seemed to repeat itself.

Just like it was about to, now.

Ten minutes into class, Kara was listening to the teacher introduce the class's syllabus. That was normally how it went on the first day of school, though more times than not, Kara had had to start a new school in the middle of the year. It was always difficult to catch up when that happened, which was why she was glad to have gotten here at the beginning — where there was no chance she'd fall behind.

The teacher was listing the various topics they'd go over this year, all on American history. Kara, being obsessed with history, already knew everything he was talking about. She'd visited enough museums in her lifetime, and had read enough textbooks in her free time to know the strangest details about American history.

Which was why, when the teacher got to talking about the American revolution, Kara couldn't stop herself from raising her hand.

The teacher finished her sentence and paused, looking at Kara. "Yes?"

"Did you know that George Washington had real hair?" Kara asked, earning a few chuckles from her classmates. She ignored them, getting more excited as she stared right at the teacher. "If you look at paintings it looks like he'd be wearing a wig, but he's not! His hair just _looks_ like that." She chuckled. "And for a guy his age at that time, he was pretty lucky."

More laughs. Kara smiled along, thinking they found the whole thing funny, too. And it was. From pictures Kara had seen on the internet, George Washington's hair _looked_ like a wig. It was hilarious! She wasn't sure who _wouldn't_ find that funny, which was partly why she'd said it during class. But it didn't occur to her — not at first — that her classmates weren't laughing with her. They were laughing _at_ her.

The teacher stared at Kara, a growing smirk on her lips. "What's your name?"

Kara rubbed her palms together, giving her teacher a smile. "Kara."

"Can you save your comments for some other time, Kara? I only want questions about the syllabus, not unneeded comments about our first president."

She nodded, sinking back in her seat. Even as a familiar sense of shame filled her, Kara tried keeping the smile on her face. Better to act like she wasn't embarrassed or hurt, like she couldn't hear people whispering about her from across the aisle.

She guessed that everyone was staring at her. She could feel their eyes burning into the back of her head. She could hear their whispers, all of them laughing about what she'd said. Not that she minded the attention — she liked it, actually. But she didn't get the way they were acting. It hadn't been that weird of a thing to say, had it? It had even been history-related! What had she said wrong?

_Nothing_, Kara told herself. Maybe it'd been a little weird, but nothing she'd said had been offensive or _too_ strange. Her fact about George Washington _was_ interesting. She just needed a better audience to tell it to. Apparently, she needed people with a sense of humor like her. People who wouldn't laugh at her, but _with_ her. People like Owen.

She hadn't known him very long, but she could tell one thing for sure: he wasn't like most people. At least, he wasn't like most people _Kara_ that had encountered. Each experience in her previous schools had been different, a mix of good and bad. Mostly good starting off, only to get worse as the months progressed.

There were some people who'd stuck around, offering Kara kindness and friendship. But they'd always ended up drifting away, often because Kara did something wrong. Many times, she wasn't even trying to do anything wrong. She just _acted_, while trying to be as selfless as possible. She tried to mend her mistakes, but she'd never been able to.

For that reason, Kara was used to sitting alone. She was used to never having many friends, despite being outgoing and outspoken. She'd been surprised when Owen and his friends, Bethany and Kiel, has sat at her table. That surprise had quickly turned into elation, since she'd already wanted to hang out with Owen. This day really _had_ turned out better than she'd thought it'd be.

Kara listened intently as the teacher finished talking about the syllabus, turning off the projector that was hooked up to the computer. After putting down her own printed copy of the syllabus, the teacher turned to face them. "Now, I'd like for us to go around the room and give introductions. Let's start with . . ." She pointed at Kara. "You. State your name, your year, and . . . tell us a fun fact about yourself."

At that moment, the phone rang loudly from where it sat on the teacher's desk. The teacher sighed, walking over to it. "I'm going to take this. Continue with your introduction." Then, carrying a cell phone, the teacher walked outside of the classroom. She shut the door behind her, and Kara could hear faint voices on the other side.

Clearing her throat, Kara rose from her seat. She swept her gaze around the room and smiled. "My name is Kara Dox, I'm a junior, and . . . a fun fact." She tilted her head up thoughtfully. "Oh, I know! I ate a spider once. That's my fun fact."

"You ate a _spider_?" a boy said, disbelief in his voice. "I don't believe you."

Other people's comments followed quickly after that. And none of them made Kara feel very good.

"Yeah, that seems way too gross to be true."

"That's disgusting."

"You're lying!"

"I bet you've never eaten a spider!"

And one kid: "What kind of spider was it?"

Other people, Kara noticed, were whispering much of the same thing. She couldn't help feeling offended. How couldn't these people believe her? She was telling the truth! It'd been a few years ago, but she _had_ eaten a spider. She'd eaten it just because she could, and it hadn't even tasted half bad.

"I'm not lying. I _did_ eat a spider," Kara said loudly, furrowing her brow. "I can prove it!"

"How?" someone asked.

"Once school ends, meet me next to the buses. I'll find one and I'll eat it just to prove that I can!"

Her classmates exchanged excited whispers and laughs, while some just stared at her with disbelief. They didn't think she could do it, but Kara would prove it to them that she _wasn't_ a liar. She was telling the truth, and all that mattered was that she justified it. Once school was over, they'd believe her. They'd see her eat a spider, and they'd know they were wrong.

* * *

An hour later, Kara was waiting next to the buses, just like she'd said she'd be. She was standing a few feet away from the bike rack, the warm wind rustling her short hair. Her sun-colored backpack hung loosely from her shoulders. She was crouched next to the grass, hunting for a spider. She inhaled. She exhaled. She waited.

As soon as history class had ended, she'd rushed through the hallways and burst through the front doors, ready to prove her point. She was glad that when she looked up, it was to see a couple of the kids from history class watching her. She wasn't about to eat a spider if no one was there to see it.

"You're really going to eat a spider?" a boy asked. Kara glanced up to see it was the same kid from earlier, the first to accuse her of being a liar. Oh, she couldn't _wait_ to prove them all wrong.

"Yeah, I just need to find one first!" she told him. Then, she turned to the grass again, digging her hands through it. She barely noticed that the group watching her was growing in size. Within minutes, it'd turned from four kids to fourteen. Somehow, they must've heard. And others must've just walked over, wanting to know what everyone was staring at.

After mistaking an ant a few times for an spider, Kara found one scurrying out onto the pavement. She lunged for it, cupping her hands in an effort to trap it. The spider wasn't too big — maybe just a few centimeters long — so it should've been easy for her to grab it. But spiders, Kara knew, moved fast. They weren't easy to catch if you just had your hands.

It was a dance, the struggle between her and the spider. She moved her hand one way, and the spider moved the other. Laughter filled the air as she tried to catch it, most of it from her own mouth. Finally, she was able to corner it. The spider was blocked by her shoe and her hands at both sides. She kept herself entirely still, and after waiting for another minute, the spider crawled onto her open hand.

Kara grinned. She climbed to her feet, holding the spider out for everyone to see. By everyone, she meant more than just a few people. It was just then that she noticed how many people were standing there, watching her with either confusion, disgust, excitement, or a mix of all three. Most of them were videotaping her on their phones.

"I have the spider!" she announced gleefully, earning several cheers. "And now, I'm going to eat it, to prove to all of you that I have eaten a spider before, and I'm willing to do it again!"

More cheers. Kara laughed, loving the attention. She looked down at the little spider, watching as it crawled around in her hand. The thought of eating it left a bad taste in her mouth, but she'd come this far. She'd done it before, and she could do it again. It was just a little gross once she was actually _eating_ it. Not that she'd let that stop her.

So, she rose the spider to her mouth.

"Eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it!" people began to chant. Their shouts got louder, even more demanding as the spider came closer to her mouth. There was a circle of students around her now, maybe fifty kids surrounding her. They were cheering, stomping their feet, clapping their hands.

Kara closed her eyes, bringing her hand to her lips. Everything went suddenly quiet. She opened her mouth, and the spider fell in. She nearly cringed at the taste, but chewed. And chewed some more.

Then, she swallowed and opened her eyes to see a crowd of kids gaping at her. They didn't clap. They didn't cheer. Some actually looked ready to throw up. A few looked amazed, like they couldn't believe it. Their whispers traveled through the air. And from the sound of it, not many were saying nice things.

Before Kara could say anything, she heard an adult's voice. "What is the meaning of this?"

Kara's eyes widened as a man pushed through the crowd of kids, wearing a business suit. She froze. He must've been a teacher or worse, the principle. His eyes locked with Kara's, a deep, angry frown on his face. "What's going on here?"

There were various explanations to what Kara had done, all of them including some form of "she ate a spider". The man, as she quickly found out, _was_ the principle. Kara felt like she was in a daze as the principle grabbed her by the arm and escorted her inside, murmurs following her the whole way. Everyone stared at her like she was crazy.

As Kara headed to the principle's office, she thought of all the possible explanations she could give him. She could say they'd forced her to eat it. Or she could tell him the truth, that she'd eaten one to prove she hadn't been lying. If there was some way to bend the truth in a way that wouldn't get her in as much trouble, that'd be the best way to go.

But as soon as the principle asked for her parents' contact information, Kara's hope at not getting into trouble fell. There was no point in making up a story. She'd never get anything past the Countess.

* * *

Owen had gotten out of school a bit later than usual. It was only because his last class, which was English, had gone overtime. His teacher's clock had been broken, and no one had noticed until ten extra minutes later, when a girl spoke up about it.

After that, he'd taken the long walk to his locker, which was all the way across the building. Owen had hoped that by the time the day was over, his ruined notebooks from earlier might not be _as_ ruined. But the pages were still damp, to his surprise and disappointment. It might be a good idea to take Kara up on her offer — to borrow some of her notebooks instead.

Even though she'd already offered, he felt a little weird about just knocking on her front door and asking for them. Assuming she'd be home when he was, which he guessed she would be. He'd have to do it after he got back from the library. He was working there a few times this week, and today, he'd walk straight there from school. Luckily, it was just about twenty minutes.

He'd texted Bethany, asking if she'd wanted to come to the library with him. But she'd said she was going on the bus today, and wanted to get an early start on her homework. Owen understood that. Sometimes when it was just the two of them at the library, they got distracted and didn't do their homework.

Owen wasn't sure if he had more than one assignment to do tonight, but he wanted to get his work done, too. Still, he felt a little disappointed that Bethany wouldn't be coming to the library today. She usually always did. Well, almost always. Kiel came less often, but it was either one or both of them. After being with them almost all the time, it just felt a little weird to be walking there alone.

Owen rushed out the front doors, his backpack bumping against his back. As soon as he stepped outside, the bright sun hit his eyes. Beyond the sidewalk, the buses were loading. Cars were rolling up in the driveway, whisking kids away to their homes. He started towards the sidewalk. But as he passed the bike rack, he stopped.

"Hi, Owen."

He looked across to see Kara standing there, the handles of a pink bike in her hands. Her hair was bright beneath the sunshine, blowing softly around her face. A smile came to her face, but it almost looked halfhearted. Less genuine than usual.

After staring at her in surprise, Owen smiled back. He shoved his hands into his armpits, his voice coming out as more of a mumble. "Oh! Um, hey. Are you going home?"

Kara nodded, her smile dropping slightly. "Yeah, _unfortunately_." She groaned. "I'd literally rather be anywhere else right now."

"Why's that?"

She raised her eyebrows. "You didn't hear?"

"Didn't hear what?"

Kara stepped closer to him, her bike rolling alongside her. "Promise you won't laugh at me?"

Owen smiled at her, shifting awkwardly on his feet. Then he shook his head, crossing his heart. "I solemnly swear I'll try _not_ to."

She laughed a little. "Good enough. So . . . I ate a spider."

He blinked. Did she just say she'd eaten a _spider_? He thought he might've misheard or, that she'd said something other than what he'd heard. Or maybe she'd said "apple cider", which would make a lot more sense. But spider? Had she really said that?

"Sorry, can you repeat that?" Owen asked, his voice suddenly faint.

"I ate a spider."

"Seriously?" His face switched from confusion to disgust, finally settling on stunned amazement. "I mean, that's kinda cool but . . . _why_?"

Kara shrugged. She started to walk, and Owen followed her. "I've eaten a spider before. You know how we have to say a fun fact for introductions in class?"

He nodded, remembering just how awkward his own introductions had been today. For every fun fact, he'd talked about his mom owning a library. Not super exciting, since he was pretty sure a lot of people already knew that. But Owen always stuck with it. Talking about books always helped him relax, even while at school.

"Yeah," Owen replied. "Those are always so embarrassing to do."

She tilted her head, as if studying him. She sounded amused, but not in a mean way. "You think they're embarrassing?"

"W-Well . . ." He looked down, blushing. "Kinda! I don't really like talking in class. I feel like everyone's watching me."

She nudged him with her shoulder. "That's what makes it fun! I like it when people pay attention to me."

"I'm pretty much the opposite of that." He chuckled. Apparently she had a very different idea of "fun". "So what happened with the fun fact thing?"

"I told the class I'd eaten a spider before. And guess what, they didn't believe me!"

He laughed. "For the record, I-I probably wouldn't have believed you either."

"You believed me now!"

"Huh," he said, stumped of what to respond with. "I guess I did!"

"Anyway, I told everyone I was going to eat a spider after school ended. So I did." She looked away. "A bunch of people were there, and then the principle came out. He was _mad_. After I explained what'd happened, he called my aunt and everything."

"Didn't he give you detention?"

She looked over at him in surprise. "Huh? Oh, yeah. He did."

"And you're not worried about that?"

"It's not detention I'm worried about. I'm more worried about my . . ." Kara seemed to change her mind. She stopped as they passed the buses. "Hey, don't you take the bus?"

"What?" Owen followed where she was looking. "Oh. No, not today." His voice grew quieter. "I'm working at the library after school, so uh . . . I'm not taking the bus, no." He pointed down the sidewalk. "Library's this way, though."

They started walking again, their pace slow. "Really?" she said. "That's really cool."

"You think it's _cool_?" Owen asked, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. Did she actually think that, or was she just saying that?

"Yeah! Don't you?"

"Yeah, of course! I-I guess. But a lot of kids don't think libraries are cool."

"That's because a lot of kids are stupid."

He grinned. "Yeah, totally."

For a few more seconds, they didn't speak. Kara took a breath, looking over at him. "Um, how often do you work during the week?"

Owen shrugged. "Almost every night. It's not usually super crowded, so I just do homework while I'm working. It's fun. I've been doing it since I was little, when my mom first got the library."

"That sounds really nice. I bet you and your mom are close."

"Yeah, I guess. Are you and your aunt close?" He looked at her, a smile growing on his face. "What do you think she'll say about the spider?"

To Owen's surprise, Kara didn't smile back. "I don't think she'll be happy. She didn't sound happy on the phone. She'll probably emmurder/em me when I get home!" She glanced at him, stopping in her tracks. "Now that I think about it, I should probably bike home. It'll be quicker. The longer I'm gone, the angrier my aunt will get."

_Please don't go_, he wanted to say, but went against it, since it was definitely too weird of a thing to say to her.

"Oh." He felt a twinge of disappointment. "Um, okay."

"See you later, gator," she said, and only then did a smile slip onto her face. "Kinda sounds like neighbor, doesn't it?"

Owen laughed. "Yeah, it does. See you, Kara."

"You too! By the way, thanks for keeping me company at lunch. It was nice."

She reached over and squeezed his hand then, and Owen froze. He couldn't breathe. Once she let go, he was still frozen. And frozen even still as he watched her hop on her bike and pedal away from him. His smile didn't fade away, not until she was far out of sight. Not even ten minutes later, when he was entering the doors of the library. 

Gently, he reached down and touched his hand. It was buzzing, alive, electric. It might as well have been on fire. He could still feel the ghost of her hand in his, more real than anything he'd imagined before. And in that moment, he knew he'd do anything just to have her touch his hand again.


	4. Moments

_"__She was bendable light: she shone around every corner of my day."_

— _Jerry Spinelli_

* * *

To Owen's surprise, the library wasn't as crowded as it normally was — especially for a Monday night. In fact, maybe just four people had come to the counter to checkout books. A few more people had come and gone, some sitting at tables as they did their work, while others had walked around before leaving empty-handed.

It didn't sit well with Owen. Usually, it wasn't _that_ crowded but there were always more people here in the afternoon. It'd been a lot more crowded a week ago, since kids had been coming here to get school books and other supplies. But most of them _only_ got school books, not anything that actually looked interesting.

As he checked out one last person, who'd just rented a math book, Owen sat back in his chair, a frown on his face. Did _no one _want to read anymore? Did everyone want to be bored, to not use their imaginations? Did people just not care about books, or were they too busy to come here? And if they did care, why couldn't they check out some _actual_ stories?

He knew he was probably overthinking this. This was the least-crowded the library had been all year. It wasn't like it'd be this way forever. This was just one night. Well, one week. Not many people had come during the days Owen had been working, either.

And it worried him. He was starting to feel like people just didn't appreciate books anymore. And if they didn't appreciate books, they wouldn't come to Owen's mother's library. Soon, no one would. Then what? His mom would have to get a new job—

"Owen." His mom stepped out of her office, closing the door behind her. "Shouldn't you be doing homework?"

"What?"

He looked up from the book he'd been reading. Quickly, he slid the book onto the checkout counter and swapped it for a sheet of paper, which — in the absence of a notebook — he'd been doing his math homework on.

He glanced down to see that he'd only gotten the first four problems done. As for the fifth, he'd started and restarted it, only to give up and read a book instead. And he still had twenty more questions to solve. _Oops. _

"Uh, yeah, Mom!" Owen lied, quickly glancing up at her. "I did my homework."

"Did you really?" She walked closer to him. Before he could stop her, she grabbed his book from the counter. "Or were you just reading . . ." She looked at the cover. "_Half Upon A Time_?"

"Um . . . I started reading that _after_ I did my homework."

She rose her eyebrows. "Well to me, it looks like you've been working on that same problem for . . . how long have you been here? Five hours?"

Owen gave her a guilty smile. "It's a _really_ hard problem."

"Okay, well, usually you get your homework done pretty fast. And clearly, you haven't finished it at all. Is there something that's bothering you? Anything you want to talk about?"

"No, Mom!" he said, shaking his head. "I'm fine."

She only looked concerned, now. "Did anything happen at school that I should know about?"

The image of Kara holding his hand suddenly filled his mind, and Owen felt heat rising to his cheeks. That had . . . partly been the reason he couldn't focus on his homework. Apparently touching her hand for the first time had caused him to daydream ten times more, and he wasn't about to tell his mom that.

He shook his head again. "Nope! Nothing. School was boring. Just like it always is."

Understatement of the year.

"Alright, but you still need to get your homework done, Owen! And you'll have to do it when we get home. Library closes in five minutes."

As his mom walked away, Owen sighed. It looked like he'd have to finish his work in his room. He normally was able to get his homework done while he worked at the library. Especially on an uneventful night like this, he could've finished his math homework in under an hour.

Why did he have to get distracted so easily, and just because a girl had touched his hand? Granted, he really _liked_ this girl, and she was funny and sweet and really cool. Also, she lived right next door to him, so the fact that she actually seemed to like him was surreal to him.

Obviously, she was only hanging out with him because he lived right next door to her. It was her first day of school, and she probably didn't know many people. Soon, she'd make a lot more friends, and she'd forget all about Owen. She'd just know him as the weird, book-obsessed neighbor who'd brought her cookies when she'd first moved in.

Okay, maybe he was overthinking this. She seemed to genuinely _want_ to be his friend, and he could tell she'd been grateful that he'd sat with her at lunch. He wondered if she'd would've done the same for him. And judging by how friendly she was, he assumed she would've. Of course, Owen wouldn't have sat with her if it weren't for Bethany, but if he saw Kara at lunch tomorrow, he decided he'd sit with her again.

As long as she didn't suddenly become popular overnight. Which definitely was possible.

He just wished he could stop thinking about her-touching-his-hand, when he doubted she'd thought about it at _all_. Just because she'd touched his hand — it didn't mean anything. It didn't mean she liked him. Owen tried to drill that into his head, because there really _was_ no way she liked him, but every time he thought about it the butterflies wouldn't stop fluttering in his stomach.

In under ten minutes, they were pulling up to the driveway in his mom's car. A sunset danced across the sky, displaying bright shades of orange, pink, and purple. The sun was dipping towards the horizon, shining directly into Owen's eyes as he opened the car door. A slightly chilly breeze blew into him, a sign that summer was definitely over.

"Can you take Spike outside?" his mom asked as they walked into the house.

"Why?" Owen asked, confused. "Can't he just use his litter box?"

"He's been inside all day. He needs the fresh air."

"Oh." Well, he couldn't argue with that. After dropping his backpack on the kitchen table, Owen raced around his house, calling for Spike. Finally, he spotted his cat nestled on top of one of his bookshelves. How Spike had climbed all the way up there, Owen had no idea.

"I hope you didn't scratch any of my books!" Owen said as he stood on his tiptoes, reaching up for his cat.

Spike meowed in protest, but Owen's hands latched tightly around the cat's waist, bringing the cat down to his level. Still holding Spike in his arms, he smiled and scratched him between the ears. "You wanna get some fresh air, Spike?"

Not responding, Spike only shifted in his arms. Owen hugged the cat tighter to his chest. "I'll take that as a yes!"

He bounded down the stairs, putting on a light jacket before opening the door. Instead of staying in the driveway, he found himself walking towards the white fence that separated his and Kara's house. Absentmindedly scratching Spike on the forehead, Owen stared at her house. He wondered if it'd be weird if he knocked on her door now, asking for the notebooks she'd offered.

Yeah, it definitely would be. He'd planned to borrow some notebooks from his mom's library, but her words from earlier had stuck in his head. She'd offered to lend him the notebooks she had, though she might've just been saying that without really meaning it. But he didn't want to knock on her door just to ask for notebooks. He wanted to talk with her.

Other than Bethany and Kiel, Owen had never found it so _easy_ to talk to another person. Kara didn't put him down. She didn't even seem to care that he was awkward and talked about books most of the time. And on second thought, asking her for the notebooks _would_ be a little weird. If she wanted to give some to him, she'd have already done it.

By this time, he'd already crossed the line of grass that separated their houses. Without realizing it, he was hovering at the end of her driveway, staring at her front door. He was close. He _could_ just go up and talk to her like a normal person, and ask her politely for the notebooks.

But somehow, this was even scarier than lunch had been. What if someone else answered, and it wasn't Kara? That would be embarrassing. It would be a lot easier if he had her phone number. That way, he could just text her, and she'd drop the notebooks over at his house. No problem.

Giving up on his ridiculous idea, Owen decided he'd go back into his house. He could probably find some extra notebooks in there, if he looked hard enough. His mom was always stocking up on books, so it was likely she had lots of notebooks around, too. Something about borrowing one from Kara had seemed a really good excuse to have another conversation with her, but maybe that just hadn't been the best idea.

He started to turn around, only to freeze once he heard the door open. And it wasn't _his_ door. It was Kara's! Eyes widening, Owen searched for somewhere to hide. He couldn't just sprint back to his house — she'd see him! And if he stayed there, she'd know he'd been staring at her house. This wasn't good.

A flash of pink hair caught his eye, and Owen was sure this time that it was Kara. There was _no_ way she could know he was standing there! Holding his breath, he quickly ducked behind the only car in the driveway, which had the word "Dolores" displayed on the license plate. Owen wondered if that was the name of Kara's aunt, or maybe a relative.

He heard footsteps coming closer, tapping lightly against the ground. As Owen stayed there, he felt his heart pounding, beating so loudly in his chest that he was sure she could hear it. Spike wriggled in his arms, and Owen held onto him tighter. If he lost hold of Spike, that would give him away for _sure_.

From only a few feet away, the footsteps stopped. He heard what sounded like a chuckle, so quiet that he assumed he'd imagined it. Then, he heard her walk back towards her house. Before she shut the door, he heard her call, "See you at school, Owen!"

Bewildered, he glanced around the side of the car. How had she _known_?

The next morning, as he headed out to the bus stop, Owen found two dinosaur-themed notebooks on his porch step. Grinning in disbelief, he looked for a note, but there was none. Either way, there was no need for one. He already knew who'd sent it.

* * *

Although Kara's aunt had grounded her, what she'd received when she got back to school was unexpectedly worse.

It'd started with the laughs. The whispers. The stares. They'd followed her as she sat down on the bus, clinging to her like a shadow. They followed her the whole way to school. Even though Kara sat alone, people looked over their shoulders at her, trying to catch a glimpse at her. Things were said under their breath, things Kara couldn't hear. She assumed it was nothing.

In Kara's sixteen years of life, she'd learned that between school and home, she'd choose school. Every time, she'd choose school. It wasn't usually because of the people, since many of the people she encountered weren't the nicest. But at least here, she could learn history. She could express herself and be goofy with Owen, her first official friend here.

At home, the Countess nagged at her with every breath. After the spider incident (which Kara had been proud of at first), her aunt punished her. She took away her phone for a month and made her clean the whole house, despite Kara not getting into _that_ big of trouble. It wasn't like she'd gotten anything more than detention on the weekend!

Compared to all the other times, this was a small mess-up. And although the principle seemed to dislike her now, at least she'd proved herself to those kids! She hadn't seen any of them since yesterday, but Kara hoped it'd done her some good. She just wanted to make more friends. And she was feeling pretty optimistic about it, too. After all, there was a chance she'd gained some popularity. The very idea brought a smile to her face.

And then, as she entered the classroom, Kara saw him. Owen. Just like yesterday, he was early to class — his notebooks stacked on his desk, his pencils all ready in front of him. Kara admired him for it. She tried her best to be prepared for class, but oftentimes she ended up losing a pencil or being consistently late for class. Today, she'd gotten better at getting here a earlier, arriving at the same time as all the other kids, since she'd taken the bus.

As Kara appeared in the doorway, Owen looked up. He gave her a smile, and she found herself grinning back. She was often tired in the mornings at school, but it was like she gained tons of energy whenever she looked at Owen. She didn't realize it, but he brightened her day. She savored her time with him, knowing that if everything went to pieces, things could change in an instant.

"Hi," Kara said, as she slid into the seat next to him. She smiled once she noticed the notebooks on his desk, the dinosaur-themed ones she'd gotten three birthdays ago.

Years ago, when the Countess bothered to get anything for Kara's birthday, it was usually just school supplies. Notebooks, pencils, that type of thing. She had so many that at this point, she'd give them to anyone that needed them more. She'd even thought about selling them, but to Owen? They'd be free. Kara wasn't the best at making friends, but she'd hoped she'd given him something he really needed. And it seemed that he had.

"At first I thought my mom might've given me these," Owen said, holding up the notebooks. "But it was you, wasn't it? _You_ gave me these. I remember the ones you have are dinosaur-themed, and um, I knew it was you." He smiled. "That was really nice of you — to give them to me. I was going to ask for them yesterday but I forgot. So, um, thanks."

Grinning shyly, Kara started to pull out her own school supplies. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Owen Conners."

He smiled. Then, remembering last night, she asked, "How come you were hiding behind my aunt's car last night?"

It was funny to Kara how quickly Owen averted his gaze, like she'd just told him the world's biggest secret. He scratched his head. "How did you know I was there?"

Kara shrugged. "I have my ways." A chuckle escaped her lips. "Actually, I just saw you through the window. You were standing there for a few minutes, so I went out to say hi. So . . . why were you there?"

"I was . . . taking my cat for a walk."

Kara laughed. "I guess you normally hold your cat when you take it for walks?"

Owen blushed. "Sometimes. Spike just needed the fresh air. He's mostly an indoor cat, so I didn't want him running away."

"His name's Spike?" A grin came to her face. "That's a cute name. Sounds like the perfect name for a dinosaur. If I ever get one, I'll name it that."

He laughed. "That might just confuse our pets. What if I was calling for Spike, and a huge dinosaur came up to me instead? And tried to eat me?"

"Easy, I'd get a little one!"

"How little?"

"Small enough that it could live in my room with me."

"So, basically a lizard?"

"I guess. But it's kinda my life's purpose to learn how to time travel, so until I learn how to do _that_, I guess I'll try finding a lizard! Or whatever's closest to a dinosaur."

He sounded surprised, maybe even with a hint of excitement. "You want to time travel?"

"Yeah! Wouldn't you?"

He nodded. "Yeah, that'd be really, _really_ cool! As long as I can get away from boring stuff like _school_ in a different era."

"I'm pretty sure they have school in every era," Kara told him with a smile. "Nice try, though." She tilted her head. "So, why were you there in the first place? Did you wanna . . . ask me something?"

Owen stared at her. He opened his mouth to answer, but just then, the bell rang. Right on cue, the teacher entered the classroom, holding a briefcase and a stack of folders. As he walked inside, the class started to quiet down. From yesterday's experience, Kara remembered the teacher didn't like it when kids talked during class. Even if class hadn't started yet.

Surprising Kara, Kiel slipped in right behind the teacher, completely unnoticed by the teacher as he casually fell into the seat beside Owen. Quickly and quietly, he dropped his bag to the floor, looking as if he'd been sitting there the whole time. Then, just as casually, he winked at her and Owen. She gave him a smile in return.

Kara was impressed. That guy was _good_. Next time she was late to class — which, knowing her, she probably would be sooner rather than later — she'd make sure to slip in right as the teacher did. Today, she'd made sure to get to the bus early, afraid she might miss it again. Though she had a feeling that despite her earlier arrival today, her streak of being late to class would build up. As it always did.

"Everyone, please hand in your homework from last night. I hope all of you did it." The teacher scanned the classroom, and Kara was sure he was staring at her as he said the next part. "Don't want to start off the year with a bad grade."

With that, everyone began to take out their homework. That was when the whispers started again. She thought she was just imagining them, or maybe some kids were talking to each other. Or even talking about the homework, like Kara assumed they were.

But then, as she handed her own homework in, a nickname reached her ears. One of many. As soon as she'd heard it, Kara felt a weird shiver go through her. Suddenly, she knew exactly what had happened. She knew where all the stares had come from. The laughs, that definitely had been directed at her. Even the poorly-done spider imitations, by a few people.

The nickname was "Spider Dox."

* * *

**_One Year Ago_**

_On the day everything went sour, things had started off surprisingly cheery. The three of them were sitting at the kitchen table, eating dinner. The look on the Countess's face was less of a scowl and closer to a smile, which Kara rarely saw on her face. Kara was voicing her theories about time travel, and for once, neither Dolores or the Countess were shooting her ideas down. _

_Maybe it was karma, or the stars aligning, or even a scenario that Kara had dreamed up, but it was the first time in a long time that no one was fighting. No bickering between the Countess and Dolores — not as much, at least. Kara felt more comfortable around them than she normally did. Little did she know, it was the calm before the storm. _

_For two years, Kara had been in the same school. That was the longest she'd lasted anywhere. Though she had gotten in plenty of trouble in that time, she hadn't gotten kicked out. Not yet. That was what was important. She had a few friends, and at school, Kara was actually sort of happysometimes. Her grades were higher than they had been in a long time, the highest being in science and history. _

_She liked it here. At least, more than anywhere else they'd lived. They lived in an apartment in the city, on the third floor of a red-brick building. Whenever she wanted to just escape her home — which was often — Kara would wander through the city, usually by herself. She liked how wide it was, how it just seemed to stretch on forever. The constant honks from cars seemed to annoy people, but they were like a melody to Kara. The rumble of the subway beneath her feet. _

_Things were always busy here. Everything was loud and bright, and she liked the distractions. There were always new things to look at. When things were tough, it helped to look at the city. The distractions helped, and when she closed her eyes, she could imagine she was in a different century._

_"__Anyway," Kara was saying, leaning forward as she dug into a plate of food. "I think that once I learn how to time travel, if I could find a way to be _immune_ to paradoxes—" _

_The Countess rolled her eyes. "Ridiculous. There is no proof that that would be possible."_

_"__You never know . . . it could be. It would solve everything! No time loops, and if I ever ran into a future version of myself, I wouldn't have to worry about my existence wiping away."_

_"__Yeah, it would _suck_ if Kara was wiped from existence," Dolores said, though her tone was more sarcastic. She was sitting at the table beside Kara, not eating anything as she stared at her phone. _

_Kara chuckled, feeling confident enough to continue discussing her theories. "Also, I was—"_

_"__Oh, Mother!" Dolores said, cutting Kara off. "I'm going out with my friends tonight. From . . ." She lowered her voice. "My gang. You know, called—" _

_"__Don't say the name," the Countess snapped, her teeth gritted. "I can't stand to hear the _stupid_ name you've chosen for it. And instead of going to college or getting a job, what've you done? What've you provided me?" She looked from Kara to Dolores. "What have _either_ of you provided me?" She pointed her fork at Kara. "You, with all the times you've gotten kicked out of school." She gestured to Dolores. "And you, with that stupid _gang_ you have!"_

_"__M-My gang isn't stupid, Mother!" Dolores said meekly. "It's the best gang ever, with the best name ever!" She started to say the name of it, only for the Countess to put a hand up._

_"__I don't care, it's still the stupidest gang to ever exist!" the Countess said, shaking her head. _

_"__It's _not_ stupid," Kara said. Granted, she didn't know all the details of what the gang did, nor did she feel that comfortable hanging around the members of it. But it seemed to make Dolores sort of . . . happy, which counted for something. _

_"__This is the first time I've actually seen Dolores happy," she added, and the Countess turned her glare on Kara. Unlike Dolores, Kara didn't shrink away from her aunt's gaze. "Isn't that what matters the most out of anything?" _

_Dolores almost looked surprised, but quickly nodded in agreement. "She's right—" _

_"__Silence, Dolores!" the Countess said angrily. "Children should only speak when spoken to!"_

_The bald woman nodded, looking hurt. Kara bit her lip, wanting to yell some more. But, knowing how this always ended, she held herself back. Arguing with the Countess never ended well. And seeing how quickly the Countess tended to blow up, their arguments were often. _

_"__That's _enough_, from both of you," the Countess continued. Her fingers were clenched tightly around her fork. "I usually don't allow you to speak so freely at the dinner table, but I was in a good mood tonight. And now, I'm _not_ anymore. All thanks to Dolores mentioning her gang."_

_"__Mother!" Dolores protested._

_"__I won't hear it," the Countess said, rising from her chair. She grabbed her plate, dumping it's contents into the trash before throwing it in the sink. Most of it was still covered in food. "Clean this up, Kara. Dolores, go off with your gang. As long as you bring back money. _Anything_ that will make you less of a disappointment." _

_"__And Kara," the Countess said, turning to her. "Get your watch collection off the table. You know I don't like looking at that junk." _

_With that, she stormed off to her room, slamming the door behind her. Neither Dolores or Kara moved for a moment, both of them frozen in place. Finally, Kara stood up, a frown on her face as she picked up her food. She'd lost her appetite. Living in this house, it was rare when she didn't._

_"__You stood up for me," Dolores said, her voice low._

_Kara looked over at her, then shrugged. "Your gang name isn't stupid."_

_A strange expression appeared on her cousin's face. "Ugh . . . well normally I would never ask this, and as long as you aren't a little pest I guess I'll allow it . . . but do you want to go out tonight with me and my gang?"_

_"__What?" Kara blinked in surprise, a smile appearing on her face. "You mean it? You've never let me come to your secret adventures!"_

_"__That's because you'd never keep your mouth shut, and you shouldn't refer to them as _adventures_!" Dolores snapped. Then, her face softened slightly. "But, you're older now. You seem like you could be trustworthy. And if we're lucky, we might make some money. Enough to impress Mother."_

_Kara found herself getting excited, though she couldn't push down the nervous flutter in her stomach. "Wait . . . you mean like . . . gambling?"_

_Dolores smiled thinly. "A different way to make money. Mother's done it before, before she . . . you know, got put into jail."_

_Kara frowned. Right before she'd taken Kara into custody, the Countess had been in jail for nearly five years. And before that, she'd gone to jail another time, for longer than that. Kara wasn't sure of the specifics. Every time she'd asked either the Countess or Dolores, they'd snapped at her. Trouble had always run in their family. _

_"__Is it illegal?" Kara asked, her brows knitted. _

_Dolores sighed loudly. "_No_, Kara. Enough questions. So, will you come or not?"_

_Kara considered it. Then, without thinking, she said, "Yeah. Yeah, of course I'll come!"_

_"__Okay. But you'd better keep your mouth shut. The last thing I want is you annoying my gang members with your time travel facts!"_

_Kara chuckled. "I bet they would find time travel interesting."_

_"__Whatever." Dolores smiled. "Go get changed into something dark. Meet me out here in five."_

_"__Deal!" Kara beamed. Hastily grabbing her pile of handmade watches from the kitchen table, she raced back to her room in search of the blackest clothes she could find. Little did she know, tonight wasn't about to be as exciting as she thought._


End file.
